Young And Old
by Drassil
Summary: Young Grimwold [introduced in 'I, Julius'] returns home, where old faces and family revelations confront him. An adaptation of posts I made on the Knightmare Roleplay Forum [hence, present tense narrative] between March and July 2005.
1. Chapter 1

After a stay at the Wolf's Howl Inn, Young Grimwold decides that there's something he has to do. He knows the consequences can only get worse, the longer he leaves it.

Having paid at the inn, YG makes his way through Wolfenden, wandering along some quiet backstreets until he's outside the town. A few fallow fields later and his feet are back on the main path. The murmuring of the town fades away as YG heads towards the Rocks of Bruin, their red-orange prominence at odds with their legendary mystery. YG ponders the name: he concludes that a B was added to the name to reduce the sense of unwelcoming menace, just like the foreboding land of ice that was named as Greenland; and that the pun that has arisen is unintentional. He certainly feels trouble brewing, even though he's not heading for the crags themselves.

YG reaches a house. It looks newly built, but at the same time, appears as if it's aged fast. It resembles a pointed witch's hat that has been squashed and dented. It is implausible and incongruous, threatening yet comical, and difficult to ignore. Staring at it, YG prepares for to face its owner. He wonders how someone so familiar can seem so unknown at the same time. Then again, maybe he's yet to know himself. Contradictions are all too often intimidating to him; but he knows that with an open mind, they can be fascinating. And, as he seems destined (or doomed?) to rediscover so often, he is living in a world of challenges.

Pushing upon the door, he lets the semi-dark chill of the house draw him in. He isn't spotted. YG decides to preempt the unpredictable.

"I'm... I'm back."

Another voice is heard. "Oh, 'allo, dearie!"

"Hello, mother."

The one known to so many as nothing more, and nothing less, than Mrs. Grimwold, shuffles forward, so that the ailing emberlight from the hearth is shed upon her, making her visible to her progeny. It wasn't until he returned from his travels, and saw and heard her after so long away, that YG realised just how comical his mother was. He feels a mild awkwardness in her presence, but it is not the shyness he feels when with others - it's a struggle not to smirk. The odour of the room, the largely random outcome of what Mrs. Grimwold has been cooking, happens to be bearable today.

"'Ow are you, son? I've been lonely 'ere, with only your father for company. I've missed you. So where the 'ell 'ave you been? No point 'avin' you bloomin' well livin' 'ere if you're out all the time. Eh, dearie?"

The ogre's mother descends into a cackle. To YG, it seems more forced than it has done before, and gives him no indication of her mood. Talking quickly so she can't interrupt, he tells her a bit about what he's been up to since he was last home: the time he's spent with Robin the forester, and the meeting with Hordriss. Mrs. G. makes a small grunt when YG mentions the mage - again, hard for YG to decipher the sentiment.

"...And, I'm afraid, I haven't seen any sign of Festus."

"What? My poor Festus! You useless-"

"But here's some money. F-for housekeeping." Blow softened.

Mrs. G. tells YG that his father is out searching for Festus around Vanburn, which YG recalls as being, quite literally, one of Grimwold's former stomping grounds (except, of course, for the quicksand). It seems clear that Mrs. G. will bear little more than a facade of her old self, until her pet is recovered; and YG knows that he should make more of a concerted effort to locate the creature. It's just too easy to get distracted sometimes.

"There's something I've been meanin' to tell you," comments Mrs. Grimwold, but I've forgotten. It'll come back to me."

Parent and child make small talk for a while. Young Grimwold feels some of his filial affection returning. He's aware that in many ways, he was an unconventional son, and it wouldn't have seemed right for him to have anyone other than an unconventional mother. And there is something comforting about being home, with the chaos of the outside world out of sight, and a wealth of positive memories waiting to be tapped in this closed-off environment, where they cannot drain away. YG decides to retire to his room, where he knows that a certain crayon is waiting for him - acquired by his father during the Dungeon days, and gifted to YG, in a unusual yet touching moment of father-son acceptance - and write a little of old times. He wonders if there's really anything left for him to say about his past; but maybe he can do what he believes that many of those he has met are more than capable of: reinterpreting the familiar as something fresh. He moves toward his room. Mrs. Grimwold calls out.

"Oh, I remember what I 'ad to tell you now! You've got a brother you never knew about. 'Ow's that for a surprise, eh, dearie?" The ogres' mother cackles. 


	2. Chapter 2

Young Grimwold turns around slowly. He wants, more than he has for a long time, to rip someone's head off. But he doesn't know whose. In fact, he does; he knows exactly whose; and for the brazen contempt she's shown him, maybe she deserves it.

He remembers the secret awe he felt whenever his father was in a rage, and the sardonic glee he experienced as he listened to his mother's vain protests - she married him, the stupid crone, and anyone who decides to get close to an ogre deserves what they get. What was she complaining about? That's all she's ever been - a putrid little manipulator, twisting the innocent people around her and clawing a smug sense of whinnying triumph under those filthy rags for herself. Is it not enough to be kicked around by Fate, or whatever bastard force controls the world, without being messed about by one of the people closest to you? YG feels as if any control over his life has suddenly been pulled away, likethe final sharp suck of bathwater being drained down a plughole. No control. Need control. YG stares at his mother for a moment, strolls over to her cauldron - what a pathetic affectation of witchery - and swings at it with his club.

A brackish concoction of reptile innards and other ingredients splashes onto the floor. As the last of it drips out, YG smashes the cauldron again, creating a clang that he hopes his mother might mistake for her death knell. At the same time as detesting her, YG is furious with himself for letting his ogre side out so petulantly - one thing he can't blame this particular parent for, and that makes him all the more frustrated. He can hear himself grunting, and listens with enthralled disgust. He doesn't look at her, not wanting to take the risk of seeing her appearing unfazed, as she probably was. After all, his father's tempers were always better than his, and she'd endured years of those. He was inferior. And yet he deserved to know. "Why..."

"Why didn't I tell you?"

She said it for him. Interrupting, controlling yet again. Blast her.

"I forgot, dearie. I meant to tell you, when you were old enough; but I've 'ad so much on my plate, what with Festus running off, and the move out 'ere, and your dad's midlife crisis. My memory ain't what it used to be. Tell you what: I'll tell you what I can remember, and we'll find someone from the old days to fill in the gaps. How about that wizard, whatsisname..."

"Merlin?"

"No, the one you mentioned. The Confuser chap. We'll find 'im."

"Why not now?"

"I don't know 'is new summoning name, I'm afraid. I'll ask around. Better make some more soup. And..."

YG doesn't need to wait, and he won't. He wants answers; and not only is this batty old hag woefully ill-equipped to provide them, but some kind of discipline is needed, a mediator between farce and force. YG takes a deep breath.

"Splendour..." Splendour? How ironic. Degraded and disrespected. Why does he even bother, if it always ends with him being dragged back into the pit of his own ogreish rage?

"...SPLENDOUR..." Yet again, he is looking for answers in a world of taunts and questions. The fool. But... a brother. Another ogre. Someone who'd know; someone to share it with. From the fetid dephs of angst, a hope, a chance at something more. And the knowledge of it is only one more calling word away. Within his grasp, and for this moment at least, in his control. Three, two, one...

"...SPLENDOUR!" 


	3. Chapter 3

A pause; a suitably ostentatious flash; and a familiar red-clad mage appears in the chamber. Noting instantly how dank and gloomy it is, and feeling the earlier spillage underfoot, Hordriss is far from pleased. While once he gave out his calling name to almost anyone who caught his interest, these days he is far more selective in issuing it. And yet still he gets disturbed, torn from his study like a sword from its scabbard, to be put to goodness-knows-what employment. To think he once approved of the calling name scheme - now it makes him feel powerless, as if his heights of magic and elegance, indeed his very splendour, have only the worth of a single thrice-spoken word.

"What is the meaning of this? One does not take kindly to being disturbed in the midst of important research, and furthermore..."

Hordriss spots Young Grimwold. While still furious, he realises that a loss of temper is wasted on an ogre, even one as restrained as YG, and he calms himself a little. "Master Grimwold. It must have been you who summoned me, but for what purpose? Tell me."

Hordriss hears a cough, and turns to see the other figure who is present. Although it's been many years, it takes him only a moment to recall her. Recoiling slightly - too slightly for the Grimwolds to detect - he mutters her name. "Enid..."

"Enid? We're not on those terms any more, dearie!"

Young Grimwold shudders inwardly at the thought of what that might mean. So much about his mother defies explanation, and he's often thought that that is for the best. Although it's now obvious to him that Hordriss and his mother were associates back when the Grimwolds lived in the Dungeon, he'd never pictured them together. And bearing in mind the ambiguity of his mother's quip, he avoids doing so now. Instead he focuses on Hordriss, standing tall despite his squalid surroundings.

He thinks of what Hordriss told him at their last meeting, about attacking the daemonic boy, and giving in to violence. Whilst he is obviously a learned man, YG feels that in light of that, Hordriss must now have an enhanced empathy with the struggle that he constantly faces against his ogrish impulses: savant versus savage. He realises that he's not ashamed to have the mage in his family home, but comforted. Yet not without guilt about how this has happened.

"Welcome," begins Young Grimwold. "I must apologise for dragging you out here. I... I know you gave your calling name to Robin, rather than to me. My mother suggested it, and so I found myself... calling upon you. And while I am sorry for the disorentiation of being summoned, I don't want to patronise you... about what's going on. She's just told me that I have a brother."

Hordriss' face flickers with consternation, like a man who hears the thunder rumbling and knows he won't have made it back indoors before the rain falls. Within a vast mind holding centuries of untold experience, memories rush upward, stirring emotions en route, raising responsiblities past and present. For a while, Hordriss bears this process with silence. But he does not forget that in his current company, reticence cannot and should not prevail. Trusting that his authority will be respected, at least by YG, he begins to speak slowly. "Then you wish to know more?"

"I have to know more. Please."

"Very well. But one must request that you keep your composure throughout. This tale may not be easy to listen to, but nor is it easy to relate." Hordriss moves his gaze from Young Grimwold to Mrs. Grimwold, then drops it to the floor. "That is why it has been kept hidden for so long."

Hordriss is not in the most comfortable of surroundings for the gravity and pathos he is about to divulge. It is a far cry from the warm room at the Wolf's Howl Inn where he last imparted intimate facts to Young Grimwold and others, revealing more of his tortuous history than he ever thought he would to people he had known for so short a time; and from his tidy and well-lit study, where he was working just moments earlier. He is most tempted to cast a spell or two to clean and illuminate the Grimwold homestead. And a seat of some kind, preferably with a dry cushion, would not go amiss. But he knows that there is nothing that can truly make the telling of this tale a gentler experience; and he fears that any perceived procrastination would...

"Geddon with it!" cries Mrs. Grimwold. "And none of that one-word-a-minute speaking - this ain't the bloomin' theatre!" She switches to dulcet. "Is it, dearie?"

...not be welcomed. Suddenly Hordriss is glad of the meagre lighting. Not knowing quite how it all will end, he begins. 


	4. Chapter 4

"Master Grimwold, as you are now no doubt aware, your mother and one had a close association many years ago. One won't go into details, as it is somewhat tangential, but..."

Mrs. Grimwold interjects. "Let's just say, I did 'im some big favours, and 'e owed me some back!"

"Indeed." Hordriss had forgotten how incorrigibly infuriating the woman could be. Such dichotomy in one person, confounding yet ever fascinating... he cannot help hoping that she will shut up, yet tells himself that it is her prerogative to contribute to the narrative. He refocuses his attention on YG. "In fact, it was I who brought your mother and Mr. Grimwold together."

Young Grimwold isn't sure what to say. Should he be grateful? Knowing there is more to hear, he keeps quiet, hoping that Hordriss will anticipate his burning question: why an ogre and not someone else?

"As you may recall," continues Hordriss, "one had as one's companion the Oracle of Confusion. It had uttered a prophecy about your mother which, when it became known, made it difficult for her to find a partner." Hordriss turns quickly to Mrs. Grimwold. "My apologies, Madam. One must recount what is relevant, but one will be discreet. You know, Master Grimwold, of the omen of Thetis?"

YG recalls the mythology of the sea-nymph as best he can. Thetis caught the attention of the lustful Zeus, king of the Ancient Greek gods; until he was told, perhaps by the Oracle of Confusion herself, that a cruel article of Fate hung over Thetis: any son she gave birth to would outshine his father. To Zeus, this meant that if he coupled with her, he would end up with a son powerful enough to depose him from his throne. So he arranged a mortal husband for Thetis.

Young Grimwold looks at Hordriss and nods intently. As he does so, he begins to feel the beginning of a rush of understanding, like the inaugural raindrops of a stormy downpour. But again, he keeps quiet, knowing he cannot finish the jigsaw while others still hold so many of the pieces.

Finding Hordriss' tact a little too ambiguously erudite, Mrs. G pipes up. As ever, her voice lurches between disparate emotions yet never quite loses its histrionic pitch. She makes it difficult to trust and sympathise, but impossible not to listen.

"It weren't easy for me, dearie. All I wanted was to settle down, but this prophecy made men run a mile. Then 'Ordriss found me someone who didn't care about destiny, so long as 'e 'ad someone to cook for 'im - my Grimwold! The day I could stop being Enid Goody and become Mrs. anything was one of the 'appiest of my life." YG and Hordriss had winced in unison at the dropped H of the latter's name.

Mrs. Grimwold continues. "So, we got ready to start a family. But we couldn't. It just weren't 'appening. We tried..."

Young Grimwold interrupts. "Please. No details."

Hordriss takes this opportunity to reclaim the narrative. This patch of it requires more care than he feels Mrs. Grimwold is capable of.

"Mrs. Grimwold came to one for help. Having never professed to being a medic, one was unsure how to assist. But one was still indebted to her over certain matters.

"One's options were limited, especially as one was dealing with unknown causes; but determination and honour bound one to the task, as so often they do. Eventually, one found a suitable procedure. Like most rarely-performed magic, there was risk involved, but Mr. and Mrs. Grimwold gave their consent. One hesitates to be euphemistic, but one also wishes to avoid a technical digression. The procedure involved endowing the couple with a measure of one's own... vitality."

Hordriss sees an awkward look contort Young Grimwold's face, and knows that, despite his efforts, he has bred misunderstanding. He decides to remedy it with candour. "One is not your father, Master Grimwold. Your parentage has caused you enough anxiety without such news. Besides, it would be a somewhat hackneyed revelation." Hordriss hears Mrs. Grimwold snort, and mumbles an apology to her. He is pleased to observe YG looking a little calmer. Though Hordriss doubts he will remain so for long.

"One's aid was not so much biological as magical. Perhaps you are familiar with the way in which Merlin would cast energy spells to replenish a dungeoneer's Life Force. One's nourishment of your parents was similar, save for the fact that due to the nature of their problem, one shared some of one's own Life Force, as it were. The intricacies of magic are tricky - no pun intended - to articulate to the non-expert, so you will forgive one if..."

Mrs. Grimwold interrupts once more. "The point is, dearie, it worked! It weren't easy carrying an ogre's bun in me oven, but I did it. And we 'ad a son! Ogres don't normally bother with names, but 'Ordriss insisted."

Young Grimwold shifts uncomfortably. He is hearing at last about the person he should be closest to, but had never even heard of yesterday.

"The child was showing remarkable alertness for a newborn," notes Hordriss, "especially one of ogrish stock. One thought of the philosophical wisdom, 'I think therefore I am', and wanted a name to reflect it. The Latin for 'therefore' appealed."

"But I just wanted something simple." explains Mrs. Grimwold. "Not boring, but simple. Like 'ogre' backwards."

Hordriss again. "So the child became..." 


	5. Chapter 5

"Ergo Grimwold." YG heard his brother's name first from his own mouth. For a moment, there is silence, as if the three are marking the absence of Ergo.

"As the child grew," continued Hordriss, "it became clear that the procedure that had enabled his conception had not gone as expected. Ergo's advanced awareness was merely a signal of a greater complication: the child had acquired magical abilities.

"One tried one's best to guide the child, to protect him. As one has said before, both my daughter and I had difficulty controlling our powers in our youths, and one feared that in a creature as naturally feral as an ogre, these tribulations would be drastically magnified."

The other narrator passes comment. "I tried me 'ardest too. So did Grimwold. If 'e didn't believe that prophecy before, 'e certainly did then!"

Young Grimwold tries to take it all in. The guilt-ridden wizard striving to undo the damage he'd unwittingly caused. The mother overwhelmed by her shattered dream. The father confronted by a derisive predestined inferiority that was beyond his ken. Suddenly his pain feels insignificant. And yet, it is his pain - his arduous lifelong struggle against his ogre side, and his shunning of magic - that is allowing him to sympathise with his brother: that violent inner turmoil exacerbated beyond belief by magical ability, an unwanted gift that could turn the darkness within into horrendous reality.

"Ergo was my son, but so 'elp me, a mother's love weren't enough. My sisters said 'e was cursed. All those awful spells. Ever wondered where Ariadne came from? That was Ergo. And as for poor old Festus... 'e used to be a cat!"

YG closes his eyes and swallows. He knows he must keep his composure. Hordriss asked him to. He must stay quiet and hear the rest. But he wants to scream.

"Master Grimwold, one senses that you are feeling the burden of this story," remarks Hordriss. "One apolog... I am sorry. And while one is sure you would not wish the narrative to be curtailed, one will not labour over the remainder." This is not as altruistic as it seems. Hordriss is feeling the strain of the recollections as well. "Ergo felt the anguish of his own predicament more than anyone else. One must emphasise that the action we took was our final resort; yet it was suggested by Ergo himself."

Hordriss is explaining, but YG already knows. When he realised that others had become casualties of his inner struggle, and had suffered more than they ever deserved, he exiled himself from the Dungeon, hoping that all could be healed. Ergo wanted the same.

Mrs. Grimwold shares words. "Ergo got magicked away to goodness-knows-where. And 'e asked for 'is memory to be wiped. It was terribly sad, but I only needed to look at Festus' five tails to remind meself of 'im. Then you came along, dearie! We didn't fuss about with names, 'cause we 'oped you wouldn't turn out the same."

YG feels like saying "And did I?" He feels like saying many things. He looks at Hordriss, whose head is bowed. "Thank you... for explaining. I'm not angry." That isn't true - he's always angry. Yet YG has found more empathy with his mother and father, and with Hordriss, the man who made them his parents, than he ever expected to. Even so, his temper is crystallising into ardour and, unusually for him, audacity. He decides to be a little more forthright. "He may not have wanted you to find him, but he has a brother now. I have a brother. If I can, I... I will find him."

Discussion between the trio continues for a while longer. After Hordriss has made his excuses and departed, Young Grimwold helps Mrs. Grimwold to tidy the room. He finds himself wanting to chat with her more, but tiredness surmounts his wishes.

The next day, replenished in unforeseen ways, Young Grimwold steps outside. His mother has told him that if he goes searching for his brother, he must keep looking for Festus too; but YG is confident that one will lead to the other. Confidence - not a state of mind (or of heart) that he is accustomed to. A smile feels too self-congratulatory, but he does allow himself the indulgence of a few words, spoken aloud:

"Ergo. Ergo cogito sum." 'I think therefore I am.' YG pauses as he chooses his direction, then speaks again, modifying the philosophical aphorism:

"Ergo cogito est." 'I think therefore he is.' After a valedictory glance at his family home, Young Grimwold walks on.

THE END 


End file.
